


a treatise on choice

by nevernevergirl



Category: Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 21:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20234374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevernevergirl/pseuds/nevernevergirl
Summary: She can’t even really remember when she realized her soulmate was Chase Stein. They’ve argued about it their whole lives, but if she’s being honest, it’s always sort of felt like a given. When they were little, they’d line their wrists up together, giggling at the mirror images made by their marks. They knew what they were, of course, but they didn’t really get it, you know? They were kids. It just felt like a cool exclusive club only they got to join.Lately, it kind of feels like Chase has decided he wants out of the club.





	a treatise on choice

**Author's Note:**

> written for Gertchase Appreciation Week day 3: AU 
> 
> literally just canon + soulmate tropes lmao. like, literally no point to this other than "if they knew they'd be good together they'd probably be even stupider about, huh?" but i had fun and that's what counts!

If you want to buy into the romanticized Hallmark version of it, you get your soulmark at the first touch of your soulmates’ hand. Many a romcom hinges on the good ol’ missed connections trope—two hands brush in a crowded room, and hours later, a small arrow appears on the unsuspecting wrist. Hijinks ensue as the leads stumble through a flimsy plot that invariably features a lot of cringe-worthy physical comedy as they attempt to find their matching marks, but, in the end, the stars (or, rather, _ arrows_) align.

Of course, real life’s not quite like that.

You have to hold your soulmate’s hand, and you have to mean it. Touch is intimate, and hands can be comforting; it’s human connection on the most base level. It doesn’t have to be romantic, or even personal. It can be a handshake during a job interview, or the squeeze of a friend’s hand—but you have to be asking for, and _ given_, that connection. 

Gert Yorkes got her soulmark somewhere around her third birthday. She’s not really sure, because she was obviously too young to remember getting it, and her mother’s not sure how long it was there before she noticed—Gert had been a very tactile baby, always grabbing at everything, and that had only increased when she’d grown old enough to mean it. Sure, marks were uncommon for a child that young, but nowhere unheard of; there were several other children in her pre-school with marks, and some of her parents’ friends’ children had them as well.

She can’t even really remember when she realized her soulmate was Chase Stein. They’ve argued about it their whole lives, but if she’s being honest, it’s always sort of felt like a given. When they were little, they’d line their wrists up together, giggling at the mirror images. They knew what they _ were_, of course, but they didn’t really get it, you know? They were kids. It just felt like a cool exclusive club only they got to join. 

Lately, it kind of feels like Chase has decided he wants out of the club.

It sucks.

She blames lacrosse, and the boys on Chase’s middle school lacrosse team. They’re all annoying, the kind of annoying that makes gross farting noises during science class and tries to blame it on the person sitting in front of them like it’s the most hilarious joke (it’s _ not_, fyi). Chase doesn’t do that yet, but he _ does _ find all that stupid boy crap hilarious, and tries to tell Gert _ she’s _ the one being annoying. And then he flirts with stupid Eiffel, and Eiffel’s stupid friends _ in front of Eiffel_, which just makes Eiffel flirt back with him more, which is totally weird. Also, he flexes his stupid arms in gym class all the time, and Gert doesn’t think he even knows how stupid that looks. 

Her mom says it’s just puberty, which is _ such _ an embarrassing mom thing to say, and honestly the last thing Gert wants to think about is Chase Stein in conjunction with puberty, even if he is her soulmate. She still has to, like. Look him in his stupid face, you know? But Gert’s paid enough attention in health class to know that she’s probably right, and theoretically the haywire hormones are going to go away someday and leave a new and improved version of her best friend in their place. 

But for now, he’s annoying, and it’s making her grumpier than her stupid period cramps, and she can’t really make herself care about future new and improved Chase when this version’s rescheduled _ three _ movie nights for stupid sports. 

She’s in a bad mood already when he sits down next to her in science.

“That’s Nico’s seat, Chase,” she rolls her eyes. He makes a face and takes out his book, anyway. 

“Nico has the flu,” he shrugs. “It’s not like we have assigned seats.”

“You usually sit with Brandon.”

“And today I’m sitting here. Hey, can I borrow a pen?”

She sighs, kicking a foot against her stool. “I only have gel pens.”

“I can use a gel pen.”

“You’d have to use the pink one.”

He rolls his eyes and holds out his hand, and she hands it to him, grinning a little even though he’s annoying and unprepared for class and sitting in Nico’s seat.

When he pulls his hand away, she can see the arrows on their wrists pointing toward each other, for just a second. 

When Mrs. Buckner pairs them up for the astronomy project, she’s still thinking about the arrows, so she forgets to be annoyed.

“Wanna meet up at my house on Thursday?” Chase whispers. “My dad has that telescope we could use.”

Her heart flutters a little when she nods.

Stupid puberty. 

  
  


It’s not that Gert ever stopped believing in soulmates; there’s a mark on her wrist proving that, at the basest level of the concept, a human being can be intrinsically, inexplicably connected to another human being. 

It’s just that she’s 16 now, and she doesn’t think about love like a little kid would, you know?

Gert’s a firm believer in free will. There are schools of thought that think the mark is a sign of inevitably, but Gert can’t buy into that. Divorce is a thing. Soulmates _ die _. People cheat on their soulmates. There’s nothing actually keeping you from picking someone else except for societal fairytale bullshit. Sure, maybe you have a predisposition toward a specific person, but she’s old enough to know that isn’t an end-all-be-all. A mark doesn't give you a claim on anyone. That would be stupid, and _full_ of all sorts of problematic implications, _obviously_.

Chase Stein is, technically, her soulmate. Whatever. She realized that didn’t have to mean anything somewhere between him taking Eiffel to the 8th grade formal and when they stopped walking each other to 4th period after Amy died. 

So he got hot. And so he sometimes remembers he wasn’t always a douchebag and signs whatever petition she’s passing around. They were close when they were little kids, but they’ve grown up and made different choices. She doesn’t need it to mean anything more than that.

He stopped choosing her a long time ago. So what if she has a dumb crush? So what if she, like, gives into her impulses and offers to tutor him. She doesn’t have to choose him. She doesn’t _ have _ to. 

Except their parents are maybe murderers, and she x-rayed Chase’s dick earlier, and they’re looking for a dead body, and he’s making dumb jokes and teasing her, and she’s almost having fun despite it all, sort of?

It’s confusing, and it doesn’t get any better when the dinosaur shows up. 

“I’m under control,” she mumbles, frantically, trying to catch her breath. “Chase is under control. The dinosaur is under control.”

“Actually, I think it is,” Chase says, and she looks up. When she shifts a little in his arms, it’s the first time she’s really cognizant of being _ in his arms_, which sends a flare of embarrassment through her entire body, but hey, at least the acute panic of impending death is receding. 

When her parents pull into the drive, and the _ freaking dinosaur _takes off, they break apart. Her arm slides against his as they pull away, and she can feel the moment when their marks touch. She thinks Chase does too, because he looks at her, his eyes kind of wide, and she doesn’t have time to figure out what that means before she can hear her parents upstairs, calling her name. She takes a step back, not looking at him.

“You should, um. You should go.” He looks confused, so she adds. “My parents will think it’s weird if you’re here.”

She’s imagining the way his face falls. She’s absolutely imagining it.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” he says, shaking his head. “We should call the others, see what they found.”

“You should text Karolina,” she says, like an idiot. “I’m sure she’s waiting to hear from you.”

Chase blinks, like he’s confused again, but he nods. “Um. Yeah. Okay, I’ll do that. See you later?”

He’s rubbing at the mark on his wrist as he walks away. Her heart sinks.

“Free will is a _ thing_,” she mutters to herself, and ignores the little voice in her head that says _ yeah, but so is self-sabotage_.


End file.
